


Day Twenty

by walkerofthestars



Series: Whumptober 2020 [20]
Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Assassin!Dick Grayson, Flashbacks, M/M, PTSD, Toto I have a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore, Whumptober 2020, and now he has to deal with the after effects, he was at least, kinda ties in with Day Seventeen, lost field medicine medieval, sorta i guess? look i dunno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:01:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28138842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/walkerofthestars/pseuds/walkerofthestars
Summary: Whumptober 2020Toto I have a feeling we're not in Kansas anymoreLost, field medicine, medievalHe didn’t want to turn against his friends, kill them and the rest of the league. He didn’t want to. But deep down he knew that the light would have their way, they always did.He found a knife block on the counter, he slid one out, just as he heard someone behind him and whipped around to level it on them.They were about an inch shorter than him, ginger hair, pale skin, sweatpants and no shirt, green eyes staring at him with worry.Not one of the light’s people.A hallucination.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Wally West
Series: Whumptober 2020 [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2055567
Kudos: 35





	Day Twenty

**Author's Note:**

> So this one kinda ties in with Day Seventeen, in that it's like, years in the future when things have been sorted out and the good guys inevitably win and yadda yadda, all that crap. It technically can stand alone, but there's a few references to things that occur in that storyline I've set up in my mind and laid down in the one shot for day seventeen.

**Battlefield medicine, also called field surgery and later combat casualty care, is the treatment of wounded combatants and non-combatants in or near an area of combat.**

Was it still considered field medicine when the battlefield was only in the mind?

Dick wasn’t wearing shoes. He was stumbling through a dark, foreign environment and he had no shoes. No weapons, wearing pyjamas, no shoes. He didn’t know when they‘d moved him, it could have been twenty four hours ago, it could have been longer. Time was slipping between his fingers like sand. He could feel an inhibitor collar around his throat, growing smaller and smaller, readying to constrict him.

He stumbled down a hallway, trying to orient himself. Everything was dark and he _didn’t know where he was_ , what was this place? Where were they? Was this a test?

Everything was a test these days.

Was it an escape thing? Work on the fly, figure out where he was and get out. Was it an attempt to see how good he’d gotten at finding enemies hidden in the shadows? At resourcefulness?

He didn’t care what it was, all he knew was that step one on surviving their tests was to arm yourself.

He stumbled out of the hallway and noticed a kitchen. He kept to the shadows, trying to remain calm and ease his breathing and _not be so loud dammit_ , but it was all he could do to take in his surroundings. If he wasn’t careful he’d be weapon-less. Slade could be in these shadows, or Sportsmaster, or Ra’s. they could sneak up behind and stab him in the back and toss him in the pits, just like they had so many times before.

He didn’t want this. He didn’t want their training and teachings, there professional wisdom. Every day felt like they were forcing him further down a path he didn’t choose. he was trying his best not to let himself go down it but he’d been made plenty aware of how little his best could do.

He didn’t want to turn against his friends, kill them and the rest of the league. He didn’t want to. But deep down he knew that the light would have their way, they always did.

He found a knife block on the counter, he slid one out, just as he heard someone behind him and whipped around to level it on them.

They were about an inch shorter than him, ginger hair, pale skin, sweatpants and no shirt, green eyes staring at him with worry.

Not one of the light’s people.

A hallucination.

“Dick, deep breaths,” they said, hands up to prove there were no weapons in them, “it’s a nightmare.”

‘no, this is,’ he thought to himself, ‘to torture me when I wake up and realise it’s not real.’

“you’re in my apartment, in central,” Wally said, speaking slow and low.

Dick shook his head.

“come on, deep breaths, just take a moment to remember.”

“no,” Dick said, blinking and looking around him. there had to be more enemies. If this was real then this was some kind of trick or… or something.

“Dick,” Wally said, hands slowly going for the knife still pointed at him, “this is real, I’m right here, it’s me.”

“no, no, no, no, no.” Dick pushed himself further into the counter behind him, trying to keep the hallucination from touching the knife but also wanting to keep an entire arm’s length away from him. his voice was coming out husky, soft, tiny, sounding like he’d been sobbing and screaming for hours- likely because he had.

“look, see,” Wally’s hand reached for Dick’s empty one and he winced away, “hey, it’s okay, it’s just me, I won’t hurt you.”

He managed to get Dick’s hand and pulled it closer, guiding it to his neck and placing his index finger at his throat so Dick could feel a pulse.

“alive and kicking,” Wally said, “I’m real.”

That presented a whole new problem. If Wally was real then the test was to kill him. Dick didn’t want his hand anywhere near his best friend’s throat, it was a recipe for disaster. Dick didn’t want to kill him but at this point it was all he was good for.

While Dick was distracted by his frantic thoughts, Wally managed to get the knife from him, setting it on the counter out of Dick’s reach.

“it’s a nightmare, that’s all,” Wally said, “you’re here, safe, with me. Okay? Remember.”

Dick was staring into Wally’s eyes, looking for the lie, trying to figure it out. All he got was a rush-back of memory, of escaping the light, of creating his band of merry men, of taking down the people who hurt them.

And, more recently, of finally fessing up to Wally about his feelings, about the past couple months of the two trying to figure out how to get dating to work between them. And the night before, Dick’s first time staying the night at Wally’s. he’d expected this, somewhat, and warned Wally about it. the ginger had promised that things would be okay.

“you with me?” Wally asked, green eyes glittering. He had turned the light on when he came in the room and Dick was only just realising that now.

Dick shook his head, trying to swallow down the lump in his throat. He slid down to the floor, hands running through his hair. Wally followed him down.

“hey,” Wally said, pulling his hands away as Dick’s fingernails started digging into skin, “hey, look at me.”

Dick didn’t want to. What was real, what wasn’t real, he couldn’t tell anymore. When did the nightmare end and begin?

“hey.” Wally’s voice was soft, light. He came closer to Dick, the tiles cold beneath the two. He was still holding Dick’s hands and he brought them up to his chest, “deep breaths, okay? Do it with me.”

Dick shook his head. he felt almost as if the most he could do at that moment was that basic movement. The mere reminder of ‘no’, his favourite and also least favourite word. At the moment he was saying ‘no’ to the eternal question people had been asking him for years.

‘are you okay?’

Wally didn’t bother with that question, he knew the answer.

“come on Dick,” Wally said, drawing him out of his thoughts once more, “just breathe, okay? Can you do that for me?”

Dick swallowed, clenched his jaw, but he forced a breath of air through his mouth. It hissed past his teeth. he let it out, his shoulders shaking. He was only just realising the stream of tears that had been running for a long time now.

“that’s it, okay, in for five? Do it with me.” Wally breathed in, his chest rising. Dick could feel it, his hands against Wally’s skin. He tried his best to breath in with him, it shuddered and hiccupped, his lungs felt stiff. “that’s it, hold for two,” Wally said, and Dick thought it was a good sign he had the peace of mind to think, ‘but speaking isn’t holding your breath Wally, you cheat,’. After the two seconds he said, “out for seven.”

A sob broke past his lips as the air made its way out.

“it’s okay,” Wally said, “just breathe.”

They repeated it, Wally mumbling, ‘in for five, hold for two, out for seven’ and Dick doing his best to keep up, the sobs making it difficult along the way.

Dick leaned forward, hands going up to wrap behind Wally’s neck and the ginger recognised the request immediately. He leaned forward and pulled Dick closer, the two wrapped up in each other, leaning against the doors of the counter, breathing the same air.

“I’m sorry,” Dick muttered out after a few minutes of silence.

“about what?”

“I should be fine by now,” he winced at the sound of his own voice, too loud, too strange, “it’s been years.”

“doesn’t matter,” Wally said, “you haven’t had a chance to cope or grieve or work past it. you haven’t had a chance to relax since you died,” Wally’s arms were tight and warm around Dick’s shoulders, he didn’t want to leave the safe space that existed between his chest and his encircled arms, “Dick, you deserve to let it out, to cry about it and freak and process it all. You don’t need to apologise to anyone.”

Dick buried his head in Wally’s chest, clinging to him like the lifeline he was.

“you want to go back to bed?”

Dick shook his head.

“okay.” Wally rubbed circles into Dick’s back, slow, right between the shoulder blades.

“Wally?”

“yeah.”

Dick swallowed, closing his eyes and sighing as he leaned into Wally.

“I love you.”

Wally kissed the top of his head, leaning his forehead against Dick’s hair.

“I love you, too.”


End file.
